


Ungodly Prince

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dark Thor, Dark!Thor, Drunk Thor, F/M, Thor - Freeform, dangerous thor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 20:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18858304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: Thor is not himself when he drinks.





	Ungodly Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Just a random little Thor fic for you guys. Please let me know what you think in the comments <3

You crossed your arms as you looked out across the banquet hall. You should have been sweeping the upper corridors but you had tarried in your journey to fetch broom and pan from the cellars. Nights like these never boded well for you. Or really any of the palace staff. The nobles were in their cups, fueling themselves to the point of debauchery. You sighed as you searched the long tables, your eyes falling to the golden prince. He was sat among his usual brood, doffing a foaming stein to the heavens.  _Gods, this was not good at all._

You hung your head and resigned yourself to your fate. You hated when he drank. Free of alcohol, he was a kind master. He greeted you kindly and left you to your duties. Unlike many others of his stature, he addressed you by name, almost treating you like a real person. But when he had ale in his stomach, he was not the same. You had learned that quite dramatically after his name day feast not months before. Your cheeks coloured even so long after.

It had been like any other night. You awaited his retirement, set to aid him in his nightly rituals. He stumbled in, nearly falling off his feet. You tried to catch him but he was much bigger than you so you held his arm awkwardly as he lumbered across to his bed. You offered him a bucket in case he should be sick but he waved away the suggestion. His stomach was as strong as he was, he boasted. You kept your irritation hidden and carried on.

You urged him to lay down and he offered for you to join him. Your flesh burned at the suggestion and you sternly told him to recline. He did not like your tone, he said as much then. You stood at a silent impasse. He touched your cheek, then your shoulder, hand inching towards your chest. You caught his large hand and held it at bay. He twisted his wrist, enclosing your small hand in his easily. You were caught, your strength nothing against his.

And then it happened so quickly. Your pleas of purity ignored; mercy a forgotten concept. This was not the prince you had served faithfully for years. This was a beast buried deep inside of him. When he finished, he had fallen into deep snores and you had dressed as best as you could in your torn dress, hiding most of the damage under your apron. Dried blood stained your thighs and you cried silently into your pillow, dreading the next day’s work.

But he had forgotten. He hadn’t even realized his offense but it did not keep him from committing it again. He had unleashed something within which could not be caged ever again. Every time the alcohol touched his wits and turned them to not, you were left to fend him off. You had yet to be the victor.

You drifted down from the memories. Reality dragged you deeper as you could shrug off thoughts but not Thor. If you were quick, you could be done and he would retire without noticing your absence. He’d be so intoxicated he’d barely know his own chamber from the next. You stepped back, pushing yourself to the wall as you let your head loll back. You closed your eyes and sighed.  _When was the last time you were so fortunate?_  Your plight in life was to pick up after others all while taking their spite with a smile on your face.

You forced yourself away from the wall and scurried away to the upper corridors. You could always try. You swept swiftly, your heart beating at every footstep and creak; finding it to be only another servant. You took your pail of dirt and returned to the cellars, dumping it out the back door with the rest, and tended to your final duties. Thor’s chamber were prepared for him, you needn’t return lest he call to you. By the looks of him, he barely recalled his own name.

So you finished up, listening as the hubbub began to break up and the nobles departed in little trickles for their chambers. You dipped down the next corridor, eager to reach the servants quarters quickly. You passed a few ladies but they barely noticed you before you turned the next corner. You were almost there; the eastern hallways were reserved for the help and rarely saw the pampered sole of a noble.

As you came to your door, a shadow formed in the corner of your eye and you turned, the dark spirit lurking. Your hand was on the handle, your body frozen as the broad shoulders came clearer and the prince’s golden tresses caught the dim light of lanterns hung along the wall.  _What was he doing here?_

“I left the feast early for you,” He slurred, his thick hand on the door frame as he wobbled on his feet, “But you weren’t there.”

“My apologies, your majesty,” Your voice was a husk; hollow. “I was only doing my duties.”

“I’m your duty,” He snapped, “Me! Your prince!”

“Please,” You pressed yourself to the door as he loomed closer, “I did everything you asked of me. Your chambers are cleaned, linens fresh, your clothes readied for the morrow, a bottle on the table…”

“And no one in my bed,” He hiccuped. He grabbed your arm with his free hand, pushing himself flush to you. “Shall I take you here, then?”

“Get off of me,” You hissed, shoving his chest fruitlessly. “Leave me be. For once.”

“Oh, kitten, you know I can make you purr for me,” He slithered.

“No, no,” You beat on his chest, “You-you–you are a prince, Thor. You should act as such.”

“Pardon?” He pulled back suddenly, reeling, and you saw the anger bloom across his cheeks. He was rarely anything but jovial when sober, but he wasn’t the same god with ale in his veins. “You…a servant? Are lecturing me on my behaviour. I, a prince?” His footsteps were heavy, he was almost stomping back and forth as he sputtered.

“I didn’t…Your majesty,” You clasped your hands together, “You are drunk. You need to rest.”

“I am not!” He roared and you trembled, your legs like to collapse beneath you. “No, I am a prince and I will show you how a prince acts.” He seized you by your arm, pulling you sharply down the corridor. Your tried to resist but your sandals merely slid over the stone, threatening to trip you. “And you will act the dutiful servant!”

You grunted as you tried to fight him. He dragged you up the staircases, avoiding the more common passages. You clawed at him, trying to make him let you go. When he reached his floor, he turned and scooped you up over his shoulder. You were helpless, legs kicking against him to no effect. His large hand slapped your ass as he angled you through his doorway and you latched onto it desperately. In a moment, he had twisted you so that you were forced to release it. The door slammed and you were carried onward, falling onto the royal mattress with a whimper.

You sat up, shimmying across the bed and onto the floor as Thor worked at pulling his tunic over his head. “Please, your majesty,” You pleaded, knowing you could not physically elude him. “Please, I did not mean to insult you.” You were on your knees begging, hands clasped together.

“If you are truly repentant, you will remain as you are,” His hands went to the laces of his pants, his belt swiftly unbuckled. You were shaking, too afraid to rise, as you watched him pull open his fly. “And serve your king as the faithful servant you are.”

He pulled his cock from his undershorts, the fabric rolled down to his thighs. You tried to back away, your legs catching in your skirt as you caught yourself on your hands. Thor bent down, his thick hands on either side of your head as he drew you up. You were halfway off your knees in a limbo between kneeling and standing as he forced you closer. He pressed his cock to your lips as you slapped at his thighs, unable to turn away.

His left hand slipped down and squeezed your jaw until you were forced to open your mouth, the bone threatening to crack. He shoved himself past your lips as your nails dug into the fabric of his pants, tugging desperately as he filled your mouth. Your back ached as you tried to hold yourself up, one leg bent awkwardly forward as you struggled with gravity. Your eyes watered as he reached the back of your throat, a low moan rumbling from him.

He pushed deeper, so much that all air was blocked from you. He stayed there until your head pounded and finally pulled out. He worked himself into you in a steady motion, your breath ragged and painful. You could feel the drool as it spread along your lips, dribbling down your chin. His hand remained firm on your head, using you easily as you fought between the agony in both your throat and back.

Your body gave out as your breathing grew more laboured and he held you aloft life a rag doll. When your eyes closed and you felt close to blacking out, he removed himself from you entirely. His hand went to your throat and lifted you to the tip of your toes as he looked down at you with smokey blue eyes. He dragged you backward as your head lolled helplessly above his grasp.

He turned and pushed you against the wall, his other hand at the collar of your dress. He tore it down the middle so that your body was jarred in his grip. You groaned in your haze as he continued to rip the fabric, your shift easily rent in two as well. Pinned to the wall, you were helpless to fight his rough palm as it ran the expanse of your bare skin.

His hand snaked under the shorn fabric of your dress, along your ass, and pushed the back of your thigh so that your leg was bent. He hooked his fingers behind your knee as he held your leg in place. He pressed himself against you, bending his legs so that his cock was at your pussy. His tip entered you first, your pelvis tilted to ease the pain. Your hands were weakly at his around your neck, futilely bouncing off his bulky forearm.

As he impaled you, your feet left the floor, your back sliding up the wall. He wrapped your leg around his hip as he hissed. You clung to him only to keep yourself from moving. He pulled back and thrust into you so sharply you squeaked. He released your throat and threaded his fingers in your hair, his fingers spread over the back of your head. His hard body was pressed to yours, crushing you against the wall.

“Your majesty,” You whimpered, “Please, I kn-know this isn’t you.”

“It is,” He growled, His other hand trailing between your legs to run two fingers along your folds. He searched around and you felt the well of juices forming there as he worked in and out of you. “It is you too. You want me.” You closed your eyes and held back the moan he had stoked with his touch. “You’ve always wanted me.”

“Noooo,” The word was quiet, elongated as your breath hitched. It was as much a protest against him as it was yourself.

His thrusts grew rougher, deeper, so sharp that your spine ached. He was pounding into you so hard you could barely think. The clap of his flesh against yours filled the room, intermingled with your whines and his grunts; growing louder with each snap of his hips. You felt the river building, a dam forming as the pressure formed in your pelvis. As it burst forth, you let out a snarl; angry at him and your own body. 

He bent his head and his beard tickled your cheek right before his teeth sank into the tender flesh of your neck. You cried out as he bit down, his motion slowed to jagged, taunting jabs. He lifted you higher against the wall, his hand under your ass as he rutted into you. He growled into your flesh as he removed his mouth from you. 

He sank to his hilt and tossed his head back, pulling you from the wall as he held you aloft. You felt the heat spill within as he came, his cock twitched as his body trembled.

He staggered back until his knees met the edge of the mattress. He fell onto the bed with you atop him, still inside as you landed on him with a whimper. His arm wrapped around you, keeping you from parting from him. His hot breath rustled your hair as his large chest rose and fell. 

“I am your prince,” He rasped, “You do as I say.”


End file.
